Editor’s note: This commentary is by Jim Leddy, of South Burlington, a former four-term Vermont senator who was president of AARP-Vermont, director of the Howard Center for 20 years, and director of the state’s alcohol and drug programs in the 1970s. He is now retired.
[I] have now voted in 14 presidential elections. I’m batting 6 for 14, not bad for baseball, but not good when electing presidents. Actually I’m 8 for 14, including last Tuesday, if you only count the popular vote. But who’s counting? The last I heard about a “rigged election” was the day before the election. Nothing since.
I’m used to losing in politics and other games. I was raised as an IrishCatholicDemocrat, which we believed to be one word. I played three sports at a Catholic high school. Before we left the locker room, and at the end of every time-out, our coach would intone, “Our Lady of Victory” and we would in unison respond, “Pray for us!” And then we would go out and try to execute our version of a “Hail Mary” play. But what you need to know is the rest of the story: Our Lady of Victory was on sabbatical for most of my athletic career. Prayer was not enough — in sports or in politics.
I always survived losses, whether in games or in life. But this is different. It comes down to two core elements of character that have nothing to do with policies, positions or politics. We have elected a president who is cruel and a bully, full of vengeance. And for those who see the presidency as a bully pulpit, I can only say that while we don’t need fewer pulpits, we could do with fewer bullies in them.
And for those who see the presidency as a bully pulpit, I can only say that while we don’t need fewer pulpits, we could do with fewer bullies in them.
For myself and my family — my wife, my four children, and, most importantly, my grandchildren, I do not want our president to be cruel and a bully. It’s that simple.
Hope, often the forgotten virtue, is also the sustaining virtue. Hope tells me that we can make it. I pray that we do. We were taught to be grateful for our gifts and taking care of those less fortunate because “there but for the grace of God go I.” We have learned, through example, that poverty of spirit is often more of an obstacle and challenge than poverty of means. In fact, many deemed poor aren’t really poor at all. They just don’t have any money.
And now, confronted by cruelty and power, masquerading as god-like, I take sanctuary in the cautionary warning of my mother: “Never let it be said of you, or anyone, that there but for the grace of God, goes God.”
To which I can only add, “Thank God for God. Thank you, God. Thank you! Hallelujah, Hallelujah!”
